


All That's Left (For You)

by Abbie



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Felicity Makes Awesome Ones, Gen, Mild Angst, Moving On, Oliver Makes Bad Life Choices, Women Being Awesome, Women In Power
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 02:17:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2675186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abbie/pseuds/Abbie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Felicity…" Oliver slowly closed the folder, splaying his hand over it on the glass table as he looked across its length at Felicity. "What is this?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That's Left (For You)

**Author's Note:**

> Requested on tumblr by cheekpinchies, who asked for "Can I request a thing? I just need uh a thing where Felicity is v much fuck boys get money rule the world cause (and I never feel this way about your stuff) people write Felicity that needs a man to be happy a lot and I'm not about that life "

"Felicity…" Oliver slowly closed the folder, splaying his hand over it on the glass table as he looked across its length at Felicity. "What is this?"

She leaned her forearms on the table, sleekly curled hair spilling over one shoulder, offset by the royal blue of her daringly-cut dress. She pursed her lips as she peered over her glasses at him, then curved them up into a small and very deliberate smile. “Your shares, Oliver.”

He looked back down at the folder, reeling from the numbers on the pages, and her signature at the bottom of each one. “H… how…? When did—”

"Two days ago." She sighed through her nose, leaning back and crossing her legs, two fingers briefly pinching the bridge of her nose. "I tried to call, but you were… well. You know where you were."

Oliver swallowed thickly. _Felicity_ wasn’t supposed to know where he was two days ago. “But Palmer, Ray, what happened—where is—”

"I cut him out, Oliver!" She threw her hands in the air with a roll of her eyes, letting them slap into her lap as she stared at him with a _tiredness_ that hollowed his chest. “I found everything he’d been lying about, all of the secrets he was hiding—that he…” She swallowed, head canting to one side as she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply to compose herself. “I forced him into an agreement. He’s out. He won’t mount any retaliation or try to take the company back. He’s going to stay very far away.”

She looked down at her hands, laughing, short and brittle. “The opposite coast, actually. He’s not supposed to set foot in _Starling_ City ever again.” She looked back up at him, those crystal clear blue eyes settled like calm pools—turbulent underneath, deadly but controlled. “I convinced the board to elect me CEO. We’ll be announcing the return to _Queen_ Consolidated next week, but Oliver.” She sighed, set her palms on the table, and looked at him earnestly, imploring. “We need a Queen in this company, so I’m signing those shares over to you. They give you a seat on the board, but I maintain controlling interest. I don’t want to do this without you, but I will if you won’t do it on my terms.”

Oliver stared at her, lips parted, heart feeling like it beat only because it didn’t care it was broken. “Is this what we’ve come to, Felicity?” He picked up the folder, gesturing with it between them. “This is all that’s left?”

She made a sour face at him. “Don’t you _dare_ act like that’s my fault, Oliver Queen. _You’re_ the idiot who ran away, who _pushed me_ away, every time I—” She reared back against her seat, hands up between them as she closed her eyes and shook her head, biting her lips together. “I promised myself I wasn’t going to do this. So I’m not.”

She pushed back from the table and stood, so beautiful in the slice of afternoon sun through the floor to ceiling window that Oliver _ached_ to look at her. To feel how much he’d _lost_. Given up. “This is what you want, then?”

His voice was thick, swollen with the words crowding behind his question. 

Smoothing her hands down her skirt, Felicity nodded decisively. “It’s what I need.” She dropped her gaze and smiled, and Oliver felt his own lips twitch at the corners in helpless mirror; this smile, the first of its kind since he’d reached the city limits, was solemn, still, but proud. A little fierce, and brighter than suns despite its small curve. “It’s what I want, too.”

Oliver stood, habitually buttoning his suit jacket as he rounded the table towards her. She still had to look up at him, even in her heels, and he was only grateful the smile remained, that she let him this close.

"I do good, here, Oliver." Her chin trembled slightly, but she firmed it, solidified that smile. "I’m _good_ at this.” She laughed, a little delighted, a little surprised. “I never would have thought I could be. I guess I was too busy defining myself by—by _everyone_ else.” She shrugged as he winced, regretful. “But I can do this, and I can do _a lot_ of good with this company, with this influence and—yeah, with the money. I can make changes and really help people.”

She grinned, radiant. “Not that I don’t still do that in, you know. Less PR-friendly ways.” He tried to smile back, but it hurt, _god_ it hurt. “You should get in touch with Roy. Thea. They’ve missed you.” Her fingers slipped into the fold of his elbow, and he sucked in a sharp, quiet breath, for a moment spinning back in time to when this was _his_ office, and her job was his. “Your access code still works at the foundry. I didn’t have the heart to revoke it.”

Oliver clenched his fingers too tightly on the folder of stock information, feeling it wrinkle and bend. “Maybe I will.”

She smiled, sadder now, and stepped back, her fingertips sliding down his sleeve, just brushing the back of his hand before dropping away. He wanted to beg for them back, and couldn’t.

"I have another meeting in fifteen minutes and I need to prep with my assistant. But—we can talk? Later? I _do_ want to include you in our company’s vision, Oliver. But it is _my_ vision. I just need you to understand that.” He clenched his jaw and swallowed, nodding harshly. She stepped back again and turned towards the door. “And, um. Digg and Lyla are doing a dinner. The whole team. You should come, too.”

_Too_. Extra. Not part of the team.

It cut like razor wire, because it was the truth.

Blowing out and drawing in a shaky breath, he glanced at his shoes, then up again at her, dredging the most real smile he could manage up from his guts. For her. “I’d like that.”

She smiled one last time, turned, and moved for the door.

"Felicity," Oliver called, hurried. A little desperate. She turned back, hand on the door, looking over her bare shoulder with a little wariness, a little hesitation, a little kindness. Rubbing his thumb and finger together, Oliver tried to put everything into his eyes that could never come out of his mouth. "I think you’re gonna be great. At this." He grinned, chuckling, ducking his head and tugging at his earlobe. "Better than I ever was."

He looked back up at her, and there was that smile again, fond and just… _tired_. She held his eyes for a long moment he felt he should be able to read, was terrified to realize he couldn’t, not anymore. “I know.”

She left.

**Author's Note:**

> This is highly likely the only even vaguely canon-compliant thing I'll write for season 3.


End file.
